


A Witch and her Magical Hands

by FireFlySlick



Category: Original Work
Genre: Hands, Magic, Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Sex Magic, Smut, Witchcraft, Witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:40:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26055856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FireFlySlick/pseuds/FireFlySlick
Summary: In a tower, deep in the Alenian woods, a lone witch, Bea, has a desire that is eating at her. Her own arousal has bothered her all day, and now it refuses to let her sleep.Thankfully, a friend gave her a spell that could fix this problem of Bea's.
Kudos: 10





	A Witch and her Magical Hands

In a tower, deep in the Alenian woods, a lone witch, by the name of Bea, lay atop her bed. On other nights she might have pondered what potions she would brew the next day, or perhaps what spells she would practice casting. On more grim days, she might have thought about the village out of the Alenian Forest. About how they feared her, concocted insane stories about her terrible deeds. Most of the deeds complete fabrications.

Tonight however, she could not focus any thoughts, no matter what they were. Instead, her mind was trapped in between her legs. A now irritating dampness had wet her panties. The scent of her heat was stronger than it had ever been, and for the life of her, she could not decide just what had been causing it. The one other witch she knew who would do such a thing hadn't visited in months. So she was quickly able to rule out potions. She hadn't been eating anything different, nor had she drank anything different. There was no way it was a side effect of her own potions, she knew all of the local roots and plants too well to make such a blunder.

It took her some time before she conceded to the fact that it was just chance. Her own body drew a card from the deck, and apparently uncontrollable arousal was the card it drew. 

The subtle pressure in her chest had been bothering her all day, since she had woken up. She found it especially odd then, since as usual, she did not dream that night. She awake with a dampness around her nethers, and figured that since she had nothing else to do, why not start her day with a touch of  _ self-love _ . Loving oneself was important after all, wasn't it?

Upon driving herself to orgasm with only her fingers, she managed to stave off any more sexual desires for an hour or so. After that however, the desire came back, with ten times the strength as before. Naturally she had to be in the middle of an important brewing. A local baron had sent some poor lad out to commission a special potion. Usually, she would overlook such a request, but between feeling somewhat sorry for the boy; and the fact that the baron offered to pay her enough gold to feed her for three months for what would take cheap ingredients and maybe an hour of her time, she accepted it with gusto.

She instructed the boy to come back in a week, lying that it would take her three days to brew the potion, and four to steep it. She laughs at the lie. She knew damn well she was going to wait until the day before to brew the potion. Thirty minutes to brew, and thirty to steep. She had certainly made out like a bandit on that one.

She wondered if perhaps the scent of the potion brought her arousal back. The potion, despite its ingredients, smelled of lavender and roses. It was the curse of  _ ‘performance enchancers.’ _ She did not make them often, but when she did, the scent always went right to her head, and tickled her arousal. Usually, she was able to put it aside, deal with the itch after the potion was bottled and ready, but this time. The scent drove her over the edge; and it definitely wasn't helping that the scent still laid in the air.

It made her wish that she could just get laid, that instead of the scruffy looking boy, that the baron had sent a beautiful young woman. Despite what some stories said, witches were not the cruel and disgusting. Well, perhaps some were, because witches, despite angering one god or another with their 'dark magic' and 'heresy,' were just people. Most of whom left their bodies alone, whilst others, Bea included, asked themselves why nature should decide how beautiful they were?

As such, she transformed herself, thinning her face, and rounding her features. Her eyes turned from a dull hazel to a deep blue. She grew her hair to her hips, and turned it to the colour of a pearl.

Though she stood out, between her gorgeous face and slender form, she was irresistable. Aiding her was her charm. Even if she preferred the seclusion of her tower deep in the woods, wooing women came rather easily to her. On other night she would wonder if it was because she was a witch, and such a woman who would lay with other women were already dispositioned to wicked rumours. She wondered if perhaps she attracted rebellious women, fresh into their twenties, when their hormones were doing more speaking than their minds at times.

The thoughts were interrupted by the image of a woman between her legs, fingers deep inside of her crept into her mind. Her mind refused to stop there. Next there was another woman, kissing her deeply, and massaging her clit. Then another, this one latched onto her breast, suckling on her nipple as she fondled the other. She could almost feel smooth hands all over her body, existing only to pleasure her.

Her brain stops in a second, going completely blank so as to remember a certain tome that had been given to her by the same witch who might poison her with desire. 

Bea rolls off of her bed; and steps towards a tall mahogany bookshelf. She peaks up the shelf, cursing herself for placing the tome so high. When she finds it, she hops a small height and grabs the purple tome. 

She flips open the book, more refreshing herself as opposed to fully reading it. She had read the tome once before, and her first time casting the spell it contained went incredibly smoothly. A touch of shame rolls over her. She should have known it wasn't for an extra hand helping around the tower considering who gave it to her. It was only after the hands had dropped two glass bottles due to the slickness of the hands that she realizes that this modified version of the spell was not for handiwork.

Considering herself sufficiently refreshed, she closes the tome, placing it on a lower bookshelf, and walks beside her bed. Before casting the spell, she pulls off her shirt, and throws to the other side of her tidied bedroom, narrowing landing in a basket for her dirtied laundry. 

Had she not done it a thousand times before, she might have felt awkward standing in front of the large window next to her bed. She turns around, and for a moment, admires her own body in the moonlight. She gives her breasts a gentle squeeze and looks down to her thighs. She grins to herself, she was beautiful; and she would be damned if she didn't know it.

Before she flares magic at her finger-tips, she laughs at the memory of her dear friend, the very one who had given her this tome, calling her cocky. It wasn't until after declaring that with how hard she worked to look this way she damn well earned her right to love her own body. She snickers again, and of course, bedding her dear friend later night helped her case as well. 

The soft violet glow of magic lit at her tip of her middle finger. She begins by drawing a circle in the air, as was custom for all spells, and then she began on the  _ sign _ of the spell. She considered the spell to be middle of the road in terms of its difficulty. The sign for a beginner would be much too intricate, but with as seasoned as she was; she drew with more ease.

She was certain it would be much more simple if it weren't for her own sex begging to be relieved between her legs. 

Upon cycling back to the beginning of the sign, she presses her palm through the center of the circle. With that action, she sees violet hands materialize in the air before her. Her hand falls back to her side, and she smirks at her own work.

With the spell successfully cast, she flops back down onto her bed, and spreads her legs out. She rests her arms underneath her pillow, and rests her head against it.

Bea allows her eyes to close as she issues mental commands to the hands. She hadn't bothered to count how many there were, just from the one she had seen, she knew there were enough. The first hand runs its fingers down Bea's stomach. Its fingers were slender, and felt almost the same as her own. The nails on the hand were as pleasantly trimmed as her own, something she was beyond thankful for as the hand made first contact with her pussy.

The hand was slippery, and moved along her body with amazing ease. Before Bea could feel the first hand lightly touch her clit, two more hands began feeling her. One hand massaged her breast, being gentle, as though it were a first-time lover, the other pinched at her nipple with just enough force to be a pleasant irritation as opposed to a pain.

She feels the first hand lightly draw his fingers down the length of her entrance, put refusing to go inside of her just yet. It brought more of her wetness out of her, bringing her to leak. The pads of its fingers drew up to her clit, gently pressing down on it, looping circles around it, and then pressing back to her entrance. A soft moan escapes her as she feels the hand's middle finger penetrate her. 

The digit slipped inside of her with no effort. Bea could not tell if it was due to her own arousal, or the lubricating properties of the magical hands. She never bothered giving it a second thought, as she quick realized that she didn't care. 

Only the thoughts of the pleasure slowing crawling up her body stuck in her mind. From the subtle pleasures of a hand fondling her breast, to the more outright finger inside of her pussy. Another hand touches her. At first it surprised her, forgetting that were more than the initial three hands. The hand was unceremonious, it simply grabbed a good handful of her ass, and seemed to enjoy the feeling of it. 

Bea could feel the hand prod her asshole with its slender pinky. It was something she had not tried before, only holding occasional curiousity before shoving the thought aside.

It wasn't an entirely unpleasant experience, just a tad odd. Her body quickly got used to it when the hand at her heat slid another finger inside of her. Bea bites at her lip, letting out a groan of pleasure through the bite. The fingers reached deep inside of her. They slowly spread her apart, before pulling out and sliding back in at an irregular pace. Part of her missed the feeling of a finger against her clit, and as if on command, another hand came from the air above her; and fulfilled her wish. It drew its middle finger around Bea's clitoris, drawing odd shapes and loops on and around the small nub. 

All of the feelings together threatened to overstimulate Bea. Her moans had become more frequent, and they steadily rose in volume. The near-threat of overstimulation had started become more attractive to the witch, and inside, she begged for it.

Each of the hands must have been reading her thoughts, for each of them stepped up their efforts. The hand pinching her nipple gave it a slight twist, and pulled harder; whilst the hand massaging her breast gave her deeper squeezes and presses. The finger on her clit placed more pressures, and drew its shapes more quickly. The pinky-finger prodding her ass had exchanged itself. It slowly drove its index inside of her. The finger slid in effortlessly, welcoming a brand new feeling into the mix. Meanwhile, the two slender fingers inside of her pussy picked up their rhythm and lightly ground against the roof of her heat.

Bea could feel the pressure inside of her building with each stroke, each squeeze and each pinch. The thought of the powerful orgasm enticed her with its slow travel towards its peak. The warmth inside of spread to each corner of her body. Part of her felt that her desires would leave her alone after she reached her climax, but the other part of her still wanted more. 

Once again reading her thoughts, the hands kicked another notch higher. The feeling of being mercilessly fucked by the hands drove Bea insane. She felt her body tense, subtly vibrating. Her mind had gone blank; and the moans that filled the air around her threatened to stop. She had long since lost the strength to do anything with her body. The involuntarily moaning and gripping her bed sheets weakened. 

Her body had become nothing but putty for the hands, and she was all the happier for it. 

The pressure inside of her grew. She could feel it inside her, expanding with each movement of the hands and fingers, until it was readying itself to burst. Bea's body tensed further, her body straightened like a plank, the only arch being at her back as her body moved fully on its own.

Finally, it came. The orgasm exploded inside of her, forcing out a pleasured scream that threatened to hurt her throat. The warmth of pleasure turned to pure electricity and the orgasm reached it peak. Her eyes lulled to the back of her skull, fully content with the darkness she saw.

The hands either wanted to force her to drag out every bit of pleasure, or they simply had no idea that Bea had cum. The hands did nothing to change what they were doing, keeping at their same rhythm. She could have sworn that the hands on her breasts even moved faster. 

Her orgasm lasted longer than a minute, though to her it felt as if it had hours. When the climax's pleasure began to wane, her body melted into her bed, and each hand pulled out and away from her. Her breaths were laboured, and she simply laid out on her bed, limb, fully unaware that the hands seemed to be waiting for a new order. 

Her eyes pull themselves open, and she finally sees the violet blurs waiting for her. Weakly, she pulls up her hand up, and flares magic at her fingertip. It sparks at first, threatening to faze out into nothingness. She forces a little more power to her finger, struggling to get her magic flowing, and she quickly draws the sign to cut off the spell. Her half-open eyes were not of help in ensuring that she drew the sign correctly. As such, she relied only on the feeling. As she looped back to the starting point, she figured it was good enough, and cast it.

Her arms flops back down onto her bed. Her breathing had managed to level itself, but her body was useless. She had surprised herself that she was able to even cast the spell she had. 

Bea gave it no extra thought than that. Exhaustion had creeped from her body to her brain, and sleep sounded wonderful at that moment. She flops her head against the pillow, and she looks out the window, taking in the beautiful image of the moon over the forest.

While she looked out to the moon, as she waited for sleep to take her, she managed to form a cruel thought into her head. Though her dear friend had likely used the spell on herself before giving it to Bea, who was to say that the spell could only be used on one's self?


End file.
